


Imagine Being Loved By Me

by Survivor_reborn



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 04:53:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18066956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Survivor_reborn/pseuds/Survivor_reborn
Summary: Lady Alysanne 'Black Aly' Blackwood arrives in Winterfell, to be wed to the Wolf of the North, Lord Cregan Stark.





	Imagine Being Loved By Me

**Author's Note:**

> This was a lyric prompt from the song Talk by Hozier, so I highly recommend listening to this while reading. ;)

‘My lady Blackwood,’ Lord Cregan Stark’s voice rang clear as frost through the yard, as she strode inside the gates, stamping the snow from her boots.

‘My lord Stark,’ she replied, smiling thinly. ‘I apologise it took me so long to reach Winterfell. The way was treacherous.’

‘Indeed.’ His eyes were grey, clear and dark and trained calmly on her. She felt herself blush, thankful the cold had ruddied her cheeks. ‘I almost feared you changed your mind; much and more has been said of the unforgiving North and its savage denizens.’ She saw him smile then, a hungry, wolfish thing that made her shiver.

‘You seem as tame a wolf as any, my lord,’ she said carefully. That is, not at all. What have I gotten myself into?

The man laughed, holding out a hand. ‘I had a feast prepared for your arrival. It wouldn’t do to marry on an empty stomach.’ She took his hand, and let him lead her into the hall. Long tables and benches filled the room, and at the head was his seat; simple and unadorned. Another chair was beside it, candles guttering in the winter wind as the door swung closed. Cregan led her through the room, full of the entire household. They cheered when she took her seat, and bayed for wine and song and dance.

‘Enough,’ the lord said, voice soft. Silence fell at once. ‘I should like to hear my lady’s voice when she speaks to me.’

‘Oh, I don’t mind,’ she said. ‘It is good to see merriment after the Dance… what a tragedy that was.’

‘Dragons and turncloaks will make no quarrel here,’ he said. ‘Lest they understand what it is to be beset by wolves. And yet merriment is what you want, my lady, so that is what you shall have.’ At his signal, a singer stroked his hands deftly over the strings of his harp, beginning to sing.

‘A bear there was, a bear, a bear!’ The room took up the song at once, serving men and women brought out splendid pies and hearty stews, even lemon cakes. Aly ate gladly, finding herself famished after such a long journey. Her thoughts slipped to the quiet, intense man beside her. _He is to be my husband_ , she thought. _What is it to marry a wolf? They say they are half terrifying, driven by lust, but surely that is nonsense peddled by the septons?_

‘What so consumes you?’ The gentle deep voice pulled her from her thoughts, and she blushed again. Cregan gazed at her, head tilted to one side. There, in the candlelight, she realized with a twist in her gut that he was as comely as any dragon prince, even more so. His hair, thick and dark, coiled to his shoulders, loose, his bearded jaw assuring her he was no green boy, but a man grown. His eyes, though… dark as a winter storm, seeing right through her, dancing with mirth even when his mouth was still. She blinked, realizing she had become lost, and his mouth quirked up into a smirk. ‘I did not think I would see softness in a warrior such as you my lady, but I do believe my singer has enthralled you.’

She had lost the song. ‘I was thinking of what they say of Stark men,’ she said, deciding to be honest. ‘The septons insist you are godless savages who are more beast than man.’

Cregan sipped his wine, gaze unwavering. ‘Your house keeps the old gods,’ he said in reply.

‘Yes. But many in the south turn to the Seven, and they decry the North.’

‘What do they say of us, sweet lady?’ his smirk widened. ‘Do they call us creatures ruled by lust and debauchery?’ He leaned over and dropped his voice. ‘What do you imagine is going to happen to you when we are wed?’ His breath tickled her ear. ‘Do you think I will _devour_ you?’

She swallowed hard, hoping he would not hear her heart stutter. Not trusting herself to speak, she shook her head when he drew away.

‘Perhaps I will,’ he said, almost too soft to hear.

Later that night, Aly was visited in her chambers by a maidservant. ‘My lord Stark has requested you join him for wine in his solar,’ she said in a halting, sweet voice.

‘We are to be wed on the morrow,’ Aly replied.

‘He was very insistent, my lady. If you would.’ Aly sighed, tired to her bones, and rose to retrace her steps, to the Lord’s chambers. It almost felt wrong to enter before she was a wife, but she knocked softly and slipped inside.

‘There you are.’ Cregan Stark was settled by the fire in his solar, pouring two cups of wine. ‘Sit,’ he gestured to the chair opposite, and she sank into it gratefully. ‘I assure you, you’ve nothing to fear of me, my sweet lady.’ He was almost solemn. ‘For you, I will be gentle and soft, tame as a pup and as faithful. If you ask it of me, however…’ that wolfish grin was back. ‘I should like to know if you’ve given any more thought to my question?’

‘Your question?’ she asked. He reached for her free hand, turned her wrist and raised it to his lips, leaving the softest of kisses before letting it go. ‘I fear I’ve forgotten—’

‘You lie,’ he said. ‘You are easy to read, you lovely creature. While you may seem shy now, I have heard that bawdy tongue of yours. You know what you imagine.’

She drank deep of the wine, for courage. It was heady and sweet. She did know. Her thoughts had been returning to the Wolf of the North all night, when she believed he was not paying attention, but there was little he did not see. The wedding did not scare her, but the bedding, that frightened her, thrilled her. She had heard tales, ones she had believed untrue of the stern lord of Winterfell, but now she had to wonder…

‘You are silent as snow,’ he said, amused. ‘Very well, my lady. If you cannot recall, I ask this of you.’ He did not touch her, but he did seem to have a window to her mind, and it made her squirm in her seat, that cool grey gaze almost tangible. ‘Go back to your rooms,’ he purred. ‘Cast off your traveler’s garments.’ The wolf grinned, teeth glinting in the firelight. ‘Imagine being loved by me.’


End file.
